


Semblance of an Ordinary Man

by Kerriathechosen1



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Hope, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 19:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerriathechosen1/pseuds/Kerriathechosen1
Summary: Yusuke Kitagawa sits by himself in Leblanc and reflects on the things that are important to him.
Kudos: 11





	Semblance of an Ordinary Man

Leblanc was like a second home.

  
Sure, it wasn’t the most luxurious café in all of Tokyo, and it surely wasn’t the most prosperous, but it had a soothing aura about it, and it always filled Yusuke with peace.

  
He was situated alone at the booth closest to the door. Positioned in front of him on the table was a white porcelain coffee cup filled halfway with Boss’ house blend; on the seat beside him lay a sketch pad on top of his bag. It was relatively late in the evening, and about time for him to return home to his dorm… yet, something held him back.

  
As the final customers—an elderly couple who had stopped by with their grandson, both smiling gently at the energetic child as he bounced around, requesting permission to stop and get ice cream before they returned home—exited through the front door, Sojiro Sakura laid his eyes on the blue-haired boy. “You know if he’ll be back soon?”

  
Yusuke knew who he was speaking of—Akira Kurusu, the transfer student Boss had taken under his wing. The frizzy-haired boy had been wrongly convicted of a crime he hadn’t done, and was sent to Shibuya to serve out the remainder of his sentence. The woes of his story had numbed Yusuke’s heart upon his first hearing of it, and had strengthened his own resolve.

  
Of course, Leblanc _seemed_ like a second home to Yusuke, but for Akira, it actually _was_.

  
Yusuke shook his head. “No. I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  
Sojiro let out a heavy sigh. “Oh well. He has the key.” Yusuke heard the jingling of keys in the café owner’s hand and quickly rose to his feet. “Take your time; I’m not kicking you out. I’ll just flip the sign and head home. He can lock up when he gets back.”

  
The teenager nodded graciously and sat back down. He made sure to sincerely thank the man, then returned to his coffee. In just a few minutes, the front door opened, sounding off the chimes, and Yusuke was all alone in the shop.

  
That was all right, though. Yusuke was used to being alone.

  
There had always been an invisible wall of separation between him and others his age. Years of being raised under Madarame had made him highly proficient in the arts. However, it had come at a cost; though he was truly skilled at what he did, there was much that he could not do very well. Take communication, for example. Despite possessing an extravagant vocabulary, often Yusuke misinterpreted what others meant. Sometimes the means by which he achieved his ends seemed peculiar to other people, such as his decision to paint Akira nude in a church in a crucified position, in order to capture anguish within his art (thankfully, this did not take place). It made sense to him, but it was not socially correct to do such a thing. It seemed that the standards upheld by society also restrained it—and, at the same time, him.

  
However, that mattered not. Yusuke Kitagawa would create a world of beauty and purity. That was why he had joined the Phantom Thieves, after all—to break free of the chains that shackled him, and to free other civilians from their prisons as well. That was the greatest secret Yusuke possessed; his life as a Phantom Thief was something he had to keep hidden undercover. Although their actions had only been for the good of humanity, the general public still remained doubtful, not only of their existence, but also of their allegiance. It hurt Yusuke, just a tiny bit, but he would not sway. He knew, as much as one might not want to be saved, they would be grateful in the end. He knew this well, because **_HE_** hadn’t initially wanted Akira’s help, but now he was forever in his debt. Now he knew the truth of his existence.

  
Yusuke turned his head and gazed longingly across the room at the painting hung up on the wall opposite of him. It was a piece of art that had achieved national recognition and critical acclaim… the **_Sayuri_**. It had been the painting that inspired him to lift his brush every day. It was the picture of a woman smiling down at her baby boy… at Yusuke.

  
He could feel the mother’s warmth and love, and wished he could remember her holding him like that. He wished he could recall her existence at all, but he could not. He hadn’t had the luxury of getting to know his true parents. He didn’t ever meet his grandparents, either. All he remembered was Madarame, his Sensei. The man who had taken him from her. The man who had raised him only to use him for his own personal gain, to take his artwork and label it as his own. Yusuke still felt contempt for the man, but could not bring himself to completely hate him. All he knew was, society had turned his Sensei into the horrible man he was, and Yusuke needed to make sure it didn’t happen again. He would not allow scum to walk the earth and taint the lives of innocent men and women—and especially not children, like the boy who had left the café earlier with his grandparents. He would _**not**_ allow it.

  
He tore his eyes off of the painting and examined his own two hands. Yusuke chuckled. Yes; _**he**_ would reform the world, alongside the people who he could now call his friends. No one would ever see it coming. When the world was right once more, as it should be, it would make for an extraordinary masterpiece.

  
He couldn’t wait.

_ **Ching-ing!** _

At that moment, the front door opened, and there he was, the Phantom Thieves leader himself. It was humorous, he had to admit; the slouched glasses-wearing boy had the semblance of a regular high school student _(… perhaps a bookworm of sorts)_.

  
And yet, he had led to a change of heart in _**three **_influential (yet distorted) souls. Looks certainly were deceiving.

  
Akira blinked with surprise in Yusuke’s direction. Clearly he had not expected the other’s presence. He tilted his head. “Were you waiting for me?”

  
Yusuke laughed. It was a long, over-the-top, drawn-out laugh, and both Akira and the black cat peeking out of his bookbag appeared uncomfortable. Yusuke picked up his sketchpad and his bag, and gave them both a radiant smile. “No, not at all!” He bowed slightly in their direction, turned away, and walked right out the door, without looking back.

Akira stood, confused, at the entrance to Leblanc. Morgana, the cat residing in his bag, shook his head with an exhausted sigh. “He’s a weird one.”


End file.
